


Some by Sondheim

by volunteerfd



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Implied Relationships, M/M, Musicals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volunteerfd/pseuds/volunteerfd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frederick likes musicals. Will doesn't, but he's willing to experiment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some by Sondheim

I. Company  
If you were to ask Will Graham what was the most unexpected thing to come out of the whole Hannibal Lecter thing, it would be his friendship with Frederick Chilton. Somehow, between the disembowelment and the shooting and the frame-up and everything that happened after, the insufferable, immoral psychiatrist got...well, humbled. Then, after genuine confessions of guilt and remorse, and--neither man would ever admit this-- a couple of nights crying in each other’s arms, they bonded. It was weirder than Will Graham walking into his house to find a man carving his face and feeding it to his dogs. The unethical, pompous, arrogant Dr. Frederick Chilton, Will Graham’s friend. Friend-ish person.

They grabbed beers together.

Guys’ nights out.

Inside jokes.

Some that weren’t even about Hannibal.

Will’s dogs loved Frederick. Frederick accepted it.

When Frederick showed up at Will’s house one night for their guys’ night, he had two small slips of paper in his hand.

“I have an extra ticket.” 

“For a concert? A movie?”

“A musical.”

“You like musicals?”

Will did not like musicals. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, in a tone that indicated his distaste.

“And you don’t,” Chilton said with a curt nod, about to put the tickets back in his pocket.

“No, no. It’s OK. It’ll be good to get my mind off things, you know?” 

Chilton glanced down at the tickets and gaped at them. Then he looked back up at Will.

“Yes. Get your mind of things. Well. If you’re sure.”

“Yeah. A change. I’m not--it’s not that I don’t like musicals. I just don’t know much about them. I’d be happy to go.”

***

“That is not what I imagined a musical to be. Aren’t they supposed to be happy?”

“They’re as diverse as any other medium.” Frederick's voice was cold, as if he were trying to stop a lecture about theater by freezing it in his throat. 

“It was very good,” Will said, in a don’t-get-me-wrong tone of voice. He could feel a rift forming over this--musicals!--and to his astonishment, he tried to prevent it. The musical was very good. “I just didn’t know musicals could be so heavy. The loneliness at the end…” Will trailed off. He didn’t want to read into Frederick’s choice of musical, nor did he want Frederick to read into Will’s choice of words.

“Well, they can’t all be CATS.”

 

II. Do I Actually See, With My Own Very Eyes

“CATS.” Chilton said. That one word made Will come to two closely related realizations:

1) Chilton said musicals were just as diverse as any other art form, which meant that someone who liked musicals didn’t necessarily like all musicals. A film buff, for example, might love Rear Window and hate Pixels.That just made sense. 

2) “They can’t all be CATS” was not a neutral comparison about the content of the two musicals.

“We don’t have to go.”

“No, it’s alright. You said you’re not familiar with musicals, right? It will be an experience.” Under his breath, he added: “It’s always an experience.”

***  
“Yes,” Will agreed, never more grateful to be a dog person, “that was an experience.”

 

III. There’s a Parade in Town

Will actually did like the first musical he saw with Frederick, so he needed a tie-breaker. Frederick didn’t believe Will when he said he’d like to see a third musical.

“I would. I really would. But I don’t know about this stuff, what’s good and what’s not. I didn’t even know Baltimore had so much theater.”

“Let me guess. You thought it was just Broadway, high schools, and West End.” Chilton’s condescension was no longer irritating. It was a part of who he was, and now he was harmless and trying.

“What’s West End?”

Chilton’s scoff was at least slightly affectionate. “There’s a production of Parade that’s getting good reviews.”

“What’s it about?”

“Leo Frank.”

“Leo F---the Jewish guy who was hanged for a crime he didn’t commit? Jeez. Are musicals ever happy? ”

“I take that as a polite decline.”

“No, sure, let’s see it.”

IV. With or Without His Privates

“Jimmy gave me tickets to a show tonight. He knew we’re seeing shows together.” Will didn’t mention Jimmy’s suggestive tone and raised eyebrows when he offered Will the tickets.

“What show?”

“Sweet something.”

"Sweet Charity."

"No. Maybe it was Sweetie something.

“Sweeney Todd?”

“That’s the one!”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, why?”

“Do you have any idea what it’s about?”

“I don’t know anything about musicals. I told you.”

“It’s not just a musical. It’s based on an old penny dreadful. Centuries old. There’s been movies--” A sigh of exasperation from Will’s ignorance. A sound of defeat. “It’s about a barber who kills people.”

“Well. it can’t be worse than CATS.”

“And his accomplice who bakes them into pies.”

“Oh.”

“And sells them in her pie shop to customers who eagerly devour them, none the wiser."

“Oh. So I should shred these and throw them in his face.”

Frederick stared at the tickets.

“It’s a very good show. One of my favorites, actually. Before. Which theater is it?”

Will glanced at the name and told him. Frederick nodded his approval. “One of the better ones. And the seats?” Frederick grabbed the ticket from Will’s hands and moaned. “Center orchestra.”

“Are you really considering…”

“You don’t have to go. But I think it would be...therapeutic for me. Yes. Therapeutic.”

***

Against his better judgment, Will went with Frederick, mostly because he didn’t trust Frederick’s idea of what was therapeutic. He didn’t want a messy, crying Chilton on his hands again, or worse: a relapsed Chilton. 

On the other hand, maybe it would be therapeutic. If he could sit through this cannibal musical, it would be a sign that he was over the Lecter mess, or at least getting there. Either way, he would go.

Somehow, they both managed to get through the first act. The eight-minutes of cannibal puns even got a laugh from Will, begrudging at first, then hysterical. Overly hysterical. Chilton ushered him to the men’s room--just slightly before the lights went on for intermission (Will got the impression he was waiting for the last possible second, right after the second, right before the lights, so that he wouldn't have to miss anything) and then into a stall. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

If he did have to go into a bathroom stall with another man, a theater would probably be the most natural place to do that in. But soon there would be a flood of people trying to use any and every available stall.

“We’re leaving.”

“No, no! I want to stay. It was just very funny.”

“It wasn’t that funny.”

“‘With is extra,’” Will quoted with a smile. “Come on. No. I really want to see it. Assuming it’s a happy ending.”

“He gets his comeuppance.” He narrowed his eyes at Will, sizing up if he was fit to go back out into the world. “If you feel the slightest bit of discomfort--”

“Alright, doctor.” 

“I’ll be watching you.”

“Seems like a waste of a ticket.”

Frederick rolled his eyes and opened the stall door, stiffening when he saw the line of men waiting to use the facilities. He ducked his head slightly and returned to his seats, trailing a few awkward steps behind Will.

***

They both got drunk after. They shot for “good time, won’t remember anything about their lives during and after” drunk but instead got “somber and contemplative drunk,” lounging around Will’s house. Frederick was sprawled on Will’s couch, absently scratching Buster behind the ears. In vino veritas. Maybe he really did like dogs. 

Will found this thought so amusing that he laughed and repeated it to Frederick, who responded with a glare in Will’s direction. His hand froze. 

“You’re staring at my charisma, aren’t you?” Will said. 

“You don’t have to pretend to like musicals, you know.” Buster nudged Frederick’s fingers, and the petting resumed. 

“I really. Liked. That. One. The first one. And the others.”

“All of them except CATS?” At the last word, Buster leapt off Frederick’s lap and ran around in search of the felines, the other dogs following.

Will drunkenly unfolded his legs and stumbled over to the couch, covering his almost-fall by plopping down on the edge.

“I need a larger sample size.” He gripped Frederick’s fingers. “I am pressing the truth into your hand. Musicals are very miserable and I enjoy them.”

“You are so drunk right now.”

"What's the next one?"

"Jesus Christ Superstar."

Will laughed. "That's not a real thing. I'm serious."

Will liked that Frederick had a hair out of place, literally just a hair out of place, falling across his forehead. It softened the effect of his irritated gaze. 

"RENT."

"Yes! RENT. What's it about? Infanticide? Global warming?"

"AIDS."


End file.
